


Blood Butler

by spyoflove



Category: Be My Princess, Otome, voltage - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Vampire Hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyoflove/pseuds/spyoflove
Summary: Alternate universe in which the butler Alberto is a vampire hunter.





	Blood Butler

One by one Alberto held the silver bullets to the lamp light, the pads of his fingertips sliding over the intricately etched casings. Carefully, his eyes scanned for defects in the craftsmanship as he slowly counted the number of crosses carved into the outer shells, mentally nodding in satisfaction when they summed to the requisite ten. It was no simple task to create a bullet filled with holy water; high levels of both artistry and faith were needed to fashion a weapon that could withstand the firing of a gun without turning the precious liquid held within into steam. However, if there were anyone who could produce as many miracles as Jesus himself, if was Don Francesco.

“Twelve bullets as usual,” the priest looked up at the younger man over the rim of his spectacles. “Use them wisely.”

Alberto’s ochre eyes briefly darted to Don Francesco before placing the bullet on the red velvet cloth alongside the others. “You know I never miss.”

“True, but.…” Images of men just as young, just as strong, and just as intelligent as Alberto who now lay in the cold earth outside of the church flashed across the priest’s mind. “You are only human, my son.”

Alberto reached under his vest to pull his revolver from its holster, cold steel glinting in the candlelight. 

“Rest assured, none know more than I the limitations of my humanity, padre.”

The priest nodded. He remembered all too well the first moment he had faced his own mortality in the form of blood red eyes, alabaster skin, and piercing white fangs. Indeed nothing made one understand the fragility of life quite like fighting the dead.

Cocking the gold inlaid barrell with a practiced hand, Alberto loaded his weapon with its precious cargo, his brow knit in concentration. Pain arrowed through Don Francesco’s chest as memories of another face so similar to Alberto’s bearing a nearly identical expression washed over him. A smaller, more feminine face, also full of determination - and grace. 

Alberto snapped the barrell closed, causing the priest to let out a small exhale. He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

Don Francesco smiled bitterly. “You do look so like her sometimes.”

His full lips pressed into a thin line, Alberto slid the remaining bullets into the bandolier slung around his waist . “I would have preferred to have inherited her strength rather than her looks.”

“You have.”

The younger man returned his gun into its holster but said nothing.

Don Francesco watched Alberto check the wooden stakes that were buckled along the length of his knee high boots one last time before sliding on his long black leather coat. As he pulled on his gloves his wristwatch reflected in the light, the Button coat of arms on its face momentarily visible. A gift from the prince if the priest recalled correctly. 

“Are you sure you’re up to this task?” Don Francesco held out the golden chalice. “You have spent a full day chasing after His Highness. When do you sleep?”

Alberto swallowed the elixir in one gulp - the only way he could drink it down without choking he had learned. Though the bitter liquid still burned as it traveled down his throat he took his dose without a grimace, his tastebuds long since deadened to the foul taste. It was a small price to pay, however, for lowering his scent, and by association, the hunger the vampires would feel for feasting on his blood.

“I’ll sleep when I am dead.” Alberto returned the chalice to the priest, flashing him a rare grin. “Forgive me for saying so padre, but you are fretting over me like an old woman rather excessively tonight.”

Don Francesco clamped him on the shoulder. “That is because I promised your mother that I would protect you.”

Alberto nodded solemnly. Clasping his strong, smooth hand over the priest’s frail, wrinkled one he knew all too well his benefactor’s regret. “But you needn’t worry,” the younger man reassured him, “for she is watching over me herself from heaven.”

With a parting wave to Don Francesco Alberto exited the sacristy into the church, the footfalls of his bootsteps the only sounds to be heard as headed towards the special altar at the back reserved for the Holy Mother. It was nightfall, but the stained glass window that bore the image of the Blessed Virgin shone as bright as ever, the moonlight illuminating it from behind casting it in an ethereal glow. Reaching the candlelit altar, he slowly kneeled onto the cushion as he made the sign of the cross.

“Nel nome del Padre, del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo,” he whispered, reaching into his breast pocket to pull out a small, wooden rosary. The prayer beads were worn from use; many of the roses carved into them had been long since smoothed away. But even were they not he would never replace it with another.

“Dearest mother; I ask once again for your strength and your protection,” he prayed. “Tonight I hunt again. As always, I promise, to strike them down in your name. I shall give them as much mercy as they gave you,” his pupils darkened. “Your death shall not be in vain.”

Gently he fingered the beads as he brought the strand to his lips. Planting a gentle kiss on the cross, he placed the rosary back into his pocket then stood up. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a shadow pass behind a nearby window. Turning his head to the source, he saw nothing save for the bright moon high above the night sky shining down, its position signaling the approach of midnight. His eyes narrowed.

“And so it begins.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She tried to scream, her mouth opened in the “O” shape needed to voice the terror that she felt inside, her lungs filled with enough air to carry her plea for help across the silent woods - but no sound came. Her fear was too great, her disbelief too fresh to be able to let out anything other than a strangled gasp at the demon who held her by her hair, his sharp white fangs visible in the moonlight as his lips curled back in a ghastly sneer. Vampires weren’t supposed to be real, yet here she was face to face with one in the flesh, who by the look in his soulless eyes was inches away from devouring her own .

“Pretty girl wants to scream?” he chuckled, his guttural voice sending a shiver down her spine. “Feel free. However, there is no one who will hear you in time.”

His cold hands yanked her head back by her hair, exposing her neck to him. She swallowed nervously, his blood red eyes gleaming at the sight of the fluttering pulse at the base of her neck. He leaned towards her, his jaw dropping open to reveal his fangs descending further and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that she knew was about to come.

Suddenly a loud crack pierced the air, followed by the vampire’s screams. Opening her eyes, the young woman saw smoke flowing from a hole in the vampire’s chest, followed by a sizzling sound as though something were being cooked over a hot skillet. Then, she fell back, the demon’s grip on her gone as it whirled around to face a dark figure that emerged from the shadows.

“Let her go.”

Her heart thumped wildly as she watched the man come forward, his arm extended before him pointing a pistol at the vampire. Relief flooded over her at the commanding tone in his voice, as well as the surety of his steps. It was obvious he held no fear against the hell creature he faced, and she could only stare in awe at her savior in black.

“Slayer,” the vampire hissed.

The man arched an eyebrow. “I see my reputation precedes me. Step away from the girl, it is not her night to die.”

“No,” the vampire sneered. “It is yours, pathetic human. Cirilo!”

This time the girl screamed as she saw a dark figure fall from the trees above and onto the man, its long arm wrapping around his victim’s neck. The pistol fell from the man’s hands as he grabbed hold of the arm that strangled him, the two figures grappling against each other in a macabre dance. In a flash the other vampire rushed forward to help his brethren in overpowering the lone man whose face was quickly reddening from lack of air.

Then, just as the vampire reached the struggling pair, the man’s long legs flew up, kicking the demon square in the chest and sending him flying back. As his legs returned to ground, the man used the leverage to his advantage, bowing forward and tossing the other vampire over his head and slamming him into the ground. The girl gasped as she saw him raise himself up, only to have one of the vampires pounce on him. Then, to her utter shock, she saw the vampire go limp and fall backwards onto the ground, a wooden stake embedded firmly in his chest.

“When did he get that stake?”

She had little time to wonder, however. The remaining vampire had turned around and was running straight towards her, rage plastered all over its face. Instinctively she crawled back, letting out a whimper as she felt herself run up against a tree. A dead end.

“I’ll turn you if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled, reaching a clawed hand out towards her. 

Closing her eyes she heard a sickening thunk followed by a high pitched screech. Her eyes flew open only to see the vampire’s chest inches away from her own, a wooden stake skewered neatly through it from behind. Looking up into its face, she swallowed, the ghoulish mask twisted in its final death throes as the vampire slumped to side and disappeared in a cloud of ash.

“Honestly, if these things knew how much chasing I did during the day,” the man muttered to himself before turning towards the girl. “Are you hurt, miss?”

She looked up at him at a loss for words. With the terror gone she could see him, really see him. From her vantage point he was impossibly tall, and his thick, dark brown hair was virtually haloed in the moonlight. Not only that, the smooth timbre of his voice and proper diction belied an elegance that was in direct contrast to the brute force he had just displayed. Who, or what, was this man?

As if sensing her distress, he leaned down towards her. “Cat got your tongue?”

“A-are you an angel?” she finally croaked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Rest assured, my master would most assuredly say no.”

Silently he reached a hand out towards her, which she took gratefully. Pulling herself up, she noticed his ochre eyes studying her intently. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt, miss?”

“I don’t think so,” she faltered at the gentle tone in his voice.

He frowned. “You might be in shock and may not feel anything. May I check you for injuries?”

She swallowed, her cheeks flushing as the moonlight illuminated his face, revealing just how handsome he was. He said he wasn’t an angel but by the looks of him she still couldn’t help but wonder.

“Y-yes.”

After brief examination which was spent mainly looking at her neck, the man seemed satisfied.

“You do not seem to have been bitten. Very well, I shall escort you back to the village,” he announced. Swiftly he turned, beckoning her to follow him. “Take care to stay close by my side.”

“Wait!” she cried extending her hand out to him.

He turned around to look at her. “Yes?”

“What is the name of the man to whom I owe my life?”

His brow furrowed. “You owe me nothing,” was his crisp answer as he turned around and began to walk towards the village.

At his curt reply, her heart sank. Seeing that he had already gone several yards in front of her, she ran to catch up to him, her shorter legs struggling to keep pace with his long-legged strides. There was much she wanted to say, but she stood silent, afraid to say anything else that might displease him as her last question seemed to do.

“Alberto,” he said after a few moments.

She looked up at him in wonder. “Huh?”

He looked back down at her, thankful that the night hid the heat that burned in his cheeks.

“You may call me Alberto.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grinning slyly to himself, Prince Roberto tiptoed down the hall past the ballroom where he had peeked in to see Alberto talking earnestly with a florist who was in the midst of decorating the elegant space. The butler was neck-deep in preparations for the ball that was happening that evening, which was a perfect opportunity for the mischievous monarch to escape his office and steal some quality time, if not kisses, with his princess. There were enough tasks on Alberto’s own agenda to keep the High Steward busy for at least a few hours by Prince Roberto’s calculations, and the latter planned on taking every advantage of the situation, and his princess, in the meantime.

Stifling a chuckle, Prince Roberto turned the corner to head to his chambers, his footsteps going from a casual gait to a trot when he saw the empty hallway before him. Then, just as he broke into a full run, he saw a blur out of the corner of his eye, followed by the feel of a sudden yanking backwards. Letting out a startled “oof!” he craned his neck behind him, only to see the scowling face of his butler, who was holding his collar firmly in his hands.

“A-Al?!” Prince Roberto stuttered in disbelief. “But I just saw you in the ballroom! How..?”

“And just where do you think you are going Your Highness?” Alberto growled at him, ignoring the prince’s question entirely. “Surely you are not thinking of shirking your duties?”

Prince Roberto gave him a saccharine smile. “Of course not! I was just taking a breather before heading back into the thick of it, haha!’

Alberto raised an eyebrow before releasing his hold on him. “Very well. Now that you’ve breathed then you can return to your office.”

“Right! Heading that way as we speak!” Prince Roberto gave the thumbs-up sign to his stone faced butler who simply stood there silently as he watched his employer back slowly away in the direction from which he came.

“How the heck did he catch me so fast?” Prince Roberto muttered under his breath as he turned and headed towards his office in defeat. “I swear he’s not human.”

Alberto smiled to himself. “If your Highness only knew just how human I really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on my tumblr blog under the same user name. You are welcome to follow me there as well!


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